The Five and The King
by Floraquatica
Summary: The sequel to The Five and The Prince. Having just turned twenty, America is finally marrying Maxon. The caste system is a thing of the past, and Illéa has entered a new age with King Maxon at the helm. However, new political parties and rebel stirrings threaten Maxon and America's little family, and the young royals have to make decisions they never would have expected.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! It's finally here, the sequel to The Five and The Prince! Just to clarify, this is _not_ a sequel to The One - it's a sequel to my Fanfic of The One. If you haven't read The Five and The Prince, you'll probably be a little lost, so go have a read of that first :)**

******I finally read The One last week, and if you'd like to hear my thoughts on it you can see them over on my Instagram, floraquatica. I'm considering writing an epilogue for it after someone requested it on my last story :)**  


**This story picks up two years after The Five and The Prince. America is now twenty, the caste system has been abolished, and the wedding is imminent... I hope you enjoy it!**

**Anyway, without further ado I present the first chapter of The Five and The King!**

* * *

"Once upon a time, there was a prince, a singer, a guard, and a maid."

Astra stared up at me with wide eyes; this was her favourite story. Celia was still a little too young to fully understand it, but she was quite content curled up in Kenna's lap listening. Lucy and Aspen had taken a night off, so I'd offered to babysit little Celia, figuring it would be a nice excuse for a play date with Kenna and Astra.

"The singer and the guard lived in a small town, and they were best friends," I continued, my gaze darting between Astra's intent blue eyes and Celia's green ones, "The singer would perform for the guard, and he would pay her with a single penny.

"Meanwhile, in a land faraway, there was a lonely prince who wanted to find a princess. Little did he know, there was a pretty young maid in the palace, who also longed to find true love."

Astra sighed, and rolled onto her tummy, propping her round little cheeks up on her elbows. Her red hair bounced around her face, wild as ever, but her eyes were dreamy. She was only two, but she'd already developed May's love of fairy tales and romance.

"One day, the singer was invited to the prince's palace, and she had to say goodbye to the guard. She was very sad, but she knew she had to go. She packed her bags, and traveled across the country to the beautiful palace, with it's great gold gates and colourful gardens. She met the maid, who made her lots of magnificent dresses, and they soon became friends."

"The prince! The prince!" Astra insisted, grinning eagerly. This story was her favourite, and she always rushed me to get to her favourite part; the moment when the singer met the prince.

"The singer loved the gardens most of all," I began, appeasing my niece, "And one night she couldn't sleep, so she went outside for a walk. She missed her best friend -the guard- terribly, so she cried and she cried and she cried. Unbeknownst to her, the prince was also in the gardens. He found her crying, and made her feel better. The two of them became great friends."

Astra giggled joyously. She'd yet to put together the pieces and figure out who the story was really about, but that didn't stop her from loving it. She'd grown up so much since my family had relocated to Angeles, and despite being raised as a One, she was every bit a Singer. Everyone adored her.

"However, one day the guard also came to the palace, and he was sad when he found out the singer was now friends with the prince. The singer wanted to make things right, but she couldn't let the prince go - she'd fallen in love with him. The guard was heartbroken, as he'd been in love with the singer too.

"Months passed, and the guard met the maid. She had also been unlucky in love, and they secretly became friends. Eventually, the prince asked the singer to be his princess, but the guard didn't mind, because he'd fallen in love with the maid. The palace was full of love and friendship, and things had never been better."

"Yay!" Astra giggled, clapping her plump hands together, "Again, again!"

Kenna laughed fondly at her daughter's enthusiasm, and placed Celia on the plush carpet so that she could pull the little redhead in for a cuddle, "Oh no, little lady. Auntie Ames has told that story enough times for one day."

Astra moaned, but stopped when Kenna began tickling her, giggles erupting from her lips in place of complaints. Celia was a nervous little thing; Astra's sudden burst of laughter scared her, and she padded over to my chair, clinging to my leg. I willingly swept her up onto my lap. She was such a pretty little thing, with her mother's blonde hair and her father's startling green eyes. Whilst she was bright for her age, she was also timid, and I was one of only a few people other than her parents that she wasn't scared of. That said, once she decided she liked you, she became incredibly loyal and attached. She hated being on her own, and always found a way to end up in someone's arms.

"I think it might be naptime," Kenna announced, causing Astra to wriggle furiously in an attempt to escape her arms.

"No!" Astra demanded as Kenna scooped her from the floor and carried her over to my vast bed, "No nap!"

"Yes nap!" Kenna laughed, pulling back the powder blue blanket and laying Astra down, "You like Auntie Ames' bed!"

"Yes, but..." the toddler began to argue, however the feel of the blanket around her and the silky pillow under her cheek subdued her. I stifled a giggle and carried Celia over to the bed, tucking her in beside Astra. The younger girl accepted her fate far more willingly, her pearly eyelids slipping shut within moments.

Once both girls were asleep, Kenna and I slipped out of my bedroom, pressing our backs to the corridor wall and heaving sighs of relief.

"That was disconcertingly easy," Kenna laughed, voicing what both of us were thinking, "Astra never usually goes down that quickly - your stories really do settle her."

I flashed a goofy smile, "What can I say? I'm the best aunt ever."

"Ha!" Kenna laughed sarcastically, "I'm sure May would willingly fight you for that title."

I stuck out my tongue before reeling myself in, realising the guards were watching us with amused smirks. I knew they wouldn't judge me, but nevertheless, it wasn't becoming of the King's fiancee.

"I'm going to dart off," Kenna explained, straightening herself out, "I promised Amberley I'd run through some last minute wedding details with her when the girls were napping."

I flashed a grateful smile, "Do you want me to come with you? I feel bad about you taking the reigns with this thing - it's _my _wedding after all."

Kenna shrugged, "I honestly don't mind. When James and I got married our budget was miniscule - this has been my chance to plan a proper, big wedding! You can make it up to me by planing May's wedding when she inevitably marries that dashing Englishman of hers."

I rolled my eyes sarcastically, "You know, if I'm not too busy being Queen."

Kenna waved her hand with a dismissive smile, "Whatever. Anyway, speaking of marriage, you should go spend five minutes with Maxon. It's sad how little you two see each other at the moment."

I tried desperately to resist the blush that threatened to flood my cheeks. Maxon and I had been so swamped with work and wedding business recently that we hadn't been able to spend any time together during the day, and my family kept lamenting over how sad the situation was. Little did they know, Maxon and I still spent every night together. We may have had different rooms, but we always shared the same bed, sleeping either in Maxon's room or the Princess Suite depending on our moods.

Of course, this was strictly between Maxon and I. Traditionally we weren't supposed to share a bed until we were married, but owing to our long engagement we'd twisted the rules slightly. The only person who knew was Marlee, and she simply found the situation quite entertaining. Besides, I'd have trusted her with far more incriminating information.

"You're right," I sighed, waving a brief goodbye, "Have the nanny call for me when the girls wake up!"

* * *

Two guards stood outside Maxon's office, and as I approached they bowed dutifully. I pressed my finger to my lips, and they both nodded with amused smiles. They'd become quite used to my games, and they were always willing to play along.

I kicked off my shoes and slipped quietly through the door, stalking the perimeter of the room, edging towards Maxon's desk. I pressed my bare toes carefully into the carpet, striving to make as little sound as possible. He was so enveloped in the files he was addressing that he didn't notice me until I came up behind him and squeezed both of his shoulders, causing him to jump in his chair.

"Jesus!" he gasped, spinning to face me. The panic in his eyes subdued the moment he saw me, replaced by pleasant surprise. He caught my waist in his arms and pulled me down into his lap, causing me to squeal.

"That was very mean of you," he growled playfully, dropping feathery kisses onto my face.

I flashed a smile, "What? Aren't you pleased to see me?"

"Of course I am," he sighed, brushing my hair behind my ears, "In fact, this is the highlight of my day so far."

The worry lines on his forehead were extremely telling. I frowned and asked, "What's going on?"

"The Newsomes, again. They're still unhappy."

I grimaced, "They won't be happy until Celeste is released. They're causing trouble for trouble's sake. What real harm can they do?"

"More than we've given them credit for, it would seem," Maxon murmured, resting his chin on my head, "They're _still_ insisting on calling themselves Twos, and they say that they won't accept that the caste system has gone until we strip the monarchy of it's power and become a fully fledged democracy. They've even formed a political party, with Mr Newsome fronting it. They in themselves aren't the threat, but they're garnering support from other families."

I winced. I wasn't wholly against the idea of Illéa one day becoming a democracy, allowing Maxon and I to live out the remainder of our lives in peace, but only if we had the right leader at the helm. Mr Newsome definitely wasn't that person.

"We'll work this out Maxon," I breathed, trying so sound reassuring but faltering slightly, "We always do. Your mother is sure that our wedding will put an end to any unrest. Aside from the Newsomes and their kind, the whole country is indebted to you for abolishing the caste system. They _adore_ you."

Maxon sighed, "I'd like to know where you and my mother find your perpetual optimism - I could do with a little of it myself right about now."

I pressed a hand to his chest, wiling him to see the light, "Maxon, a week from now we'll finally be married, against all odds. There will be nothing stopping us."

I could feel him smiling into my hair, and a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Maxon was a wonderful king, but sometimes he needed someone to help guide him and put things into perspective. He lifted his chin from my head and gazed down at me, "You know, I really do think you'll make an amazing queen."

I bit my lip, "You know what? I don't think I'll be half bad at it either."


	2. Chapter 2

**It feels so good to be getting back into this story! I'll warn you now that I won't be able to update as regularly as I did with The Five and The Prince, but I will strive to publish 2-3 chapters a week at very least :)**

**I hope you enjoy Chapter 2!**

* * *

I didn't even realise that I was anxiously twisting my hands until Maxon took hold of them and began attempting to smooth the nerves from my fingers. I glanced up at him with a grateful yet shaky smile; the Emergency Response Unit had been supposed to arrive back at the palace an hour ago, yet we were still milling around the entrance hall waiting for them. Silvia had suggested we take tea until there was word of their arrival, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. This was Braelyn's first mission as an official member of the ERU, and I still hated myself for letting her join - if anything happened to her, I'd never forgive myself.

She'd returned to the palace a few months earlier, having spent a little over a year in Whites giving herself the time and space to get over Maxon properly. I was glad to have her back, and felt reassured when she regaled me with stories of dates she'd been on since, however it was evident that she was finding her role on the Rebel Activity Committee dull since the abolition of the caste system had largely appeased the rebels. She wanted to be where the action was, and she'd asked to join the ERU.

Stupidly, I'd let her.

"She'll be fine," Maxon whispered in my ear, squeezing his arm comfortingly around my shoulders, "Braelyn's made of tougher stuff than that."

I attempted to lift the corners of my lips into a smile, but they were simply too heavy. The last time Braelyn had left the palace on a mission involving the ERU, she'd returned a bruised, bloody mess.

"Let's hope you're right," was all I could manage to sigh.

The minutes continued to slip by at an achingly slow pace. My kitten heels began to pinch my feet from standing for so long, but I refused to leave the entrance hall until I knew she was home safe. Maxon frowned at my agitation, but mercifully he didn't fight me. I knew that a small piece of his heart would always belong to Braelyn, just as one would always belong to Kriss, so he undoubtedly understood my anxiety better than he was letting on.

Finally, one of the guards informed us that the ERU van had passed through the palace gates, and their arrival was imminent. My heart skipped a beat -she was almost home- but I wouldn't be appeased until I knew she was unharmed. I knotted my hands tightly into my skirts until the doors finally swung open, and the ERU officers began filing inside, still in their slate grey uniforms. One of them broke rank and hurried over to me, tearing their helmet from their head. Braelyn's chestnut hair bounced around her shoulders and she grinned widely, a little grimy but radiant as ever. An audible squeak escaped my lips and I rushed to greet her. Our hug was a little clumsy through her plated uniform, but I was too relieved to care. Maxon began debriefing the rest of the ERU, giving Braelyn and I a moment to ourselves.

"It's so good to see you," I giggled deliriously, picking a leaf from her hair.

"It's good to see you too," she replied, sounding exhausted and exhilarated in equal measures, "Oh my God, Ames, it was _crazy_."

My eyes bulged in my head, "What do you mean? Was it terrible? Just say the word and I can have to moved back-"

"Ames!" Braelyn's laughter interrupted me, "I meant crazy in a good sense. You can't begin to imagine how exciting it was."

"Tell me all about it," I insisted, catching one of her hands, "I want to hear everything."

"I will," she promised, giving my hand a squeeze, "However, if I'm not mistaken, I have a dress fitting to clean up for?"

I rolled my eyes, "Bridesmaids dresses aren't nearly as exciting as your first ERU mission!"

"Of course they are! How about I tell you all about it whilst we're at the fitting? Otherwise Silvia will flip."

I couldn't argue that. Reluctantly, I let my friend go, feeling reassured now that I finally knew she was home and safe.

* * *

Marlee, Kenna and May were already in their shimmering blue dresses, lounging together on the large chaise that filled my airy dressing room, sipping champagne from wide, shallow glasses. Silvia observed from the corner, tapping the end of her pen impatiently against her file as my maids hurried around the room with armfuls of fabric, pins and tape measures. Braelyn was running late, but I couldn't blame her considering she'd just returned from her first mission.

Before too long, she breezed into the room, skin still pink from her shower and her damp hair twisted up on top of her head. May, Marlee, Lucy and Mary rained questions down on her about the mission, but she elegantly raised a hand, and purred, "All in good time, ladies! Now where's this dress of mine?"

All four of my bridesmaid dresses were made from the same silky powder blue fabric, but they were all cut slightly differently to flatter each of the girls' figures. My maids draped Braelyn's dress over her head, and thankfully the fit was near perfect. There were only a few alterations they needed to make, and they wasted no time in getting started.

"You look amazing," I sighed, before turning to face the rest of my bridesmaids, "You all do. The dresses are perfect."

"Of course they are," Kenna teased, twirling her champagne glass lazily by the stem, "I commissioned them!"

We all shared a laugh, before clinking our glasses together. I insisted on pouring Lucy, Mary and Anne a glass even when Silvia wrinkled her nose a little. She _still _couldn't get her head around my friendly relationship with my maids.

"To the wedding of the year!" Marlee giggled.

"More like the wedding of the _century_," May argued.

"You won't be saying that when your Seth pops the question!" Kenna laughed, causing May to swiftly swat her arm. We all knew that May was very close to the English prince, but despite having always been boy crazy, she kept the details of their relationship private - something I could absolutely respect.

Once we'd changed back into our everyday clothes, we all lounged around the Princess Suite finishing what was left of the champagne. As promised, Braelyn answered all of our questions about the mission.

"Did you see any rebels?" May asked with wide eyes.

"Yes, we did, however most of them don't consider themselves rebels anymore. We still like to drop in on them from time to time to make sure they're not getting any big ideas."

"So if it's not rebels causing trouble, who is?" Kenna asked, eyebrows creased in confusion.

Braelyn leaned forward in her seat, eager to share her story, "We found out about this group of big families who used to be Twos, and to try and maintain their wealth and position they've been secretly manufacturing and distributing weapons. We went undercover and raided the factory."

Lucy gasped, "That sounds intense."

"It was," Braelyn admitted, nodding her head, "But it was also kind of thrilling. The last time I went on a mission I felt so helpless, but this time I was trained and equipped. I felt powerful and totally in-control. It was amazing."

"Do we know who the families are?" I asked, remembering what Maxon had told me about the Newsomes causing trouble.

"Unfortunately we don't. They've managed to keep their names shrouded in a lot of smoke and mirrors, however we took a couple of the factory managers for interrogation."

My blood went cold. For everyone else in the room, this was just an exciting story, however in less than a week I'd be Queen, and this would be entirely my concern. The lives of those factory workers would be in my hands. My head felt light, and I wasn't sure if it was the champagne or simply my thoughts.

"I'll tell you what though, the factory raid wasn't nearly as creepy at the trip to Clarkson's safe house."

My skin bristled, and my head snapped up in an instant. I'd had no idea that their mission had involved a visit to the outlying safe house where Maxon's father was being held as punishment for caning me during the Selection. I knew that Braelyn didn't like to be mothered, but I hated the idea of anyone I loved being near that vicious man.

She could read the confusion in my eyes, "Maxon didn't tell you?"

No, he hadn't, but I intended to milk the situation for every scrap of information I could. I raised an eyebrow and bluntly replied, "Didn't tell me what exactly?"

She bit her lip. It was clear that she didn't want to defy her king, yet I was her closest friend, and before too long I'd be her Queen. She ran her hands through her half-dry hair and expelled a deep breath loudly from between her bowed lips, "There'd been whispers of upset at the safe house, so Maxon asked up to drop in while we were passing by. The thing is, it was empty - _completely empty_. Clarkson was nowhere to be seen, and neither were his guards. Clarkson either talked them around to his side, or someone else got rid of them for him... It was eerie."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end at this news, "Are you telling me that Clarkson has escaped?"

"Yes," she sighed, frowning gently, "I'm so sorry Ames. I just assumed Maxon would've told you."

"Don't be sorry," I breathed, placing my champagne glass down on the coffee table, "Maxon's the one who should be apologising. Excuse me, ladies."

* * *

I was so anxious to get to Maxon's office that I'd even gone to such lengths as switching my heels for sneakers so that I could walk faster without tripping. Technically, I wasn't supposed to go barging into his office without permission, however I was too angry to care about formalities. I simply had to hope that I knew whichever guard was at his door, and they'd let me through without too much of a fight.

Apparently it was my lucky day, as the door was being manned by none other than Aspen. When Celia was born, Lucy and Aspen had named Maxon and I her godparents, and afterwards Maxon had insisted on making Aspen one of his personal guards.

It was strange. When I looked at Aspen nowadays, I didn't see the man I'd one loved; I simply saw Lucy's husband, and Celia's father. He was a good man, and he'd finally found his place in the world. Truthfully, I couldn't be more happy for him.

"Ames?" he asked as I approached, clearly sensing my anger a mile off, "Are you alright?"

"Don't ask," I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples, "Please let me through, I need to talk to Maxon."

Aspen shifted his staff uncomfortably from one hand to the other, "Sorry, but now isn't the best time."

"Well that's unfortunate, but this can't wait."

Aspen pursed his lips, then whispered, "Sorry Ames, but the king has company."

I raised an eyebrow; it was very rare of Aspen to challenge me in this manner. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he knew he shouldn't.

"Who is he with?" I asked, trying to sound firm and authoritative.

"I'm not authorised to divulge that information."

I mashed my teeth together in frustration. Mercifully, I didn't need to interrogate Aspen further as the door to Maxon's office swung open and a tall, familiar man strode out. He smirked when he saw me, but bowed his head in my direction nonetheless, "Lady America."

"Mr Newsome," I forced myself to reply, trying not to sound too aggressive. One of the last people I wanted to see walking the corridors of my home right now was Celeste's father.

I rounded the door into Maxon's office, and he finally met my eyes, a thousand unspoken questions buzzing between us.

* * *

**prnamber3909 - Yay! I'm so glad you think so.**

**Guest - That's so sweet. Thank you!  
**

**Karategirl537 - Thank you so much!**

**Guest - I hope you enjoy this story in the mean time!  
**

**Smallbumpsalongtheway - Of course I did! I love these characters too much to let them go :)**

**zeldafanatic0555 - Aww, that made me smile :) Thank you!**

**Hearts And Crowns - Thank you so much! What high praise.  
**

**Kaminator - Don't worry, this is completely unrelated to The One!  
**

**ilona18 - Haha, I'd probably do the same thing. Thank you!**

**megapotpie - That's so sweet of you. Thanks!**

**Guest - I hope you enjoy it!  
**

**Dhenn618 - I'm glad you liked it! Thank you :)**

**magicdance 123 - Yay! Thank you so much.**

**kath1741 - I'm sure that will happen eventually!**

**Athenachild101 - Hope you liked the little bit of May/girly time in this chapter!**

**AlytheAmazinglyAwkward - That's so lovely. Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I figured it was about time for some proper Maxerica! I hope you enjoy this chapter - I sure enjoyed writing it! :)**

* * *

Maxon lifted his hand to the back of his neck, clearly feeling guilty about keeping me in the dark about his meeting with Mr Newsome and being caught redhanded. Last I'd heard he was causing all kinds of problems for us, but now Maxon was welcoming him into the palace? Into our _home_? It made no sense. I closed the distance between us with a few hurried steps, my eyes hard and unforgiving.

"America?" he eventually asked, "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

I rolled my eyes, "Well, I came here with the intention of discussing the secrets you've been keeping about your father, but now I'm wondering what the hell Celeste's dad was doing in your office?"

"Given the support he's been gaining recently, I could hardly turn down his request for a meeting."

"Why not?" I demanded, collapsing into the seat in front of the desk. It was still warm from Mr Newsome sitting on it.

Maxon folded his hands nervously on top of the desk, trying so hard to look like the composed, dignified monarch he had to be in front of the rest of the world, "Mr Newsome has a lot of influence over certain wealthier families, and given I've no intention to release Celeste anytime soon, I need to think of other ways to keep him appeased before he kicks up too much trouble."

"Like handing him the country on a silver platter?" I challenged, cocking an eyebrow.

"Don't be melodramatic. It was just a meeting."

"He has you wrapped around his finger," I accused.

Maxon looked wounded, "Have a little faith in me, America."

"I have faith in you," I sighed, running my fingers desperately through my hair, "I just don't trust that man. He raised someone like _Celeste_ for God's sake! Has it crossed your mind that he might have something to do with your father escaping the safe house?"

Maxon grimaced, eyes flashing with guilt, "Braelyn told you about that?"

"Yes, she did," I spat, crossing my arms tightly, "Why would you hide something like that from me?"

"I don't know... To protect you?" he replied weakly.

I mashed my teeth together in frustration, "Keeping me in the dark is _not_ protecting me."

Maxon sank back in his chair, expelling an exhausted sigh, "I'm sorry, alright? The wedding is so soon, and I didn't want to ruin this time for you. I was going to tell you afterwards. It was a burden you didn't need to bear."

At this admission, my angry demeanor softened. I couldn't resent him when he had my best interests at heart. Despite the waves of panic and anger and fear washing through me, I reached out across the table and placed my hands over Maxon's. I offered him a strained smile, and whispered, "I know you want to protect me, but you have to appreciate that I _want _to support you. I _want_ you to share your problems and concerns. A problem shared is a problem halved, and if I'm to be your Queen, you need to learn to share with me - to share everything."

He nodded thoughtfully, taking a moment to properly digest my words. I knew that Maxon respected me, but sometimes he treated my like some fragile baby bird. I was stronger than that, and I needed him to appreciate my strength if I was ever going to be a good queen. As much as I loved Amberley, I would never allow Maxon to pull the wool over my eyes the way Clarkson had pulled it over hers.

"I'm sorry," Maxon breathed, pulling one corner of his lips up into an apologetic smile, "I promise we will talk about this and I'll tell you everything I know... after the wedding."

I leaned forward in my chair, "Maxon, please. Tell me now."

His jaw tensed, "Fine. We received reports of unauthorized movement around the safe house from local spies, so we scheduled the ERU mission so that they'd pass by the area. They went to investigate, and they found neither my father nor his guards. There was no sign of a struggle, so right now we're assuming that he somehow managed to talk his guards around to his cause -whatever that may be- and they helped him escape without triggering any of the alarms we have in place."

My heart was racing in my chest, "And there's been no sign of him yet? No reports or contact?"

He shook his head, a lock of sandy hair falling into his eyes, "Nothing. If we didn't know any better, I'd say he vanished into thin air."

* * *

I manhandled the piping bag clumsily, trying to decorate the petit fours with the same delicacy and artfulness as Marlee, but failing miserably. I'd insisted I wanted to be involved in all of the hands on elements of the wedding, and this was just another in a long line of projects. Usually I'd embrace whatever task faced me with gusto, hemming tablecloths, perfecting my calligraphy, and teetering atop staggeringly high ladders hanging the blossoming garlands that now decorated the orangery and Great Room. However, today I wasn't feeling it, and my terrible piping was ruining the tiny, delicate pastries one by one.

"Squeeze lightly from the top of the bag," Marlee instructed, placing her own bag down on the marble counter and helping me rearrange my hands, "If you hold it too low, it'll just keep splodging out in big lumps like that."

"I'm no good at this," I sighed, dumping the bag down in defeat. I wiped a little of the frosting from the nozzle and popped my finger in my mouth, hoping the sweetness would counteract my sour mood.

"You just need a bit more practice - there's a real knack to it."

I shook my head, "If I keep at it we won't have _any_ pastries good enough to serve at the wedding. Maybe a professional should take over."

Marlee rolled her eyes, but nevertheless placed a fond hand on my shoulder, "You've done more than enough for one day, anyway. Go clean up and I'll send word to Mary to make sure she's got a bath ready for you - you could do with an evening of pampering."

I managed a weak yet appreciative smile; Marlee could read me better than anyone, even my sisters. She always knew exactly what to say or do to put my mind at rest, and truthfully she'd been the one keeping me sane over the final couple of months of wedding preparation. At her instruction, I tore off my apron and tossed it into one of the receptacles, before heading into one of the side rooms to properly clean my hands. I was slowly learning the names of all the kitchen staff, and they were slowly learning that there was no need to bow or curtsy whenever they saw me wandering the kitchens; instead, we all exchanged warm smiles.

As Marlee had promised, Mary had a bath ready for me when I arrived back at the Princess Suite. It wasn't just any bath, but a deep, indulgent one spilling over with fragrant bubbles and pink petals. I appreciatively stripped out of my heavy dress, pulled my hair into a crude topknot, and allowed myself to sink deep into the foam until it tickled my nose. Before too long, Lucy arrived with a mug of soothing herbal tea and a bowl of mushy green stuff I didn't recognise.

"A face mask, miss," she explained, "Marlee said you could do with a night of pampering, so we thought it might be a fun idea."

I allowed her to smear the green stuff onto my skin, giggling all the while. There was still plenty left, so I insisted that Lucy use some too; if I was being subjected to such silliness, so was she. We spent half an hour drinking tea and laughing at how ludicrous we both looked with our green faces, before we splashed the stuff away with plenty of clean water and patted our skin dry.

"That was strangely fun!" I chuckled as I collapsed onto the bed.

"It was!" Lucy agreed, "Next time we'll have to get Mary, Anne and Marlee involved too."

"Can you imagine Anne with her face all green?" I asked with a sly smile, and we both folded over with giggles.

* * *

"Are you awake?"

My eyes snapped open at the sound of Maxon's voice. The lights were still on, and I'd fallen asleep with my nose in a book. Maxon looked exhausted, but still he flashed an amused smile, fishing the book from my hands and slipping beneath the covers beside me. I stole a glance at the clock; it was gone midnight.

"Maxon!" I gasped, placing a hand on his chest, "You can't keep working this late."

"It's not like a have a choice," he groaned, pressing his fingers to his eyes.

I shook my head stubbornly, "Nu-uh. I want my groom well rested and bright eyed on our wedding day."

At mention of our wedding Maxon grinned sleepily, and I couldn't help but question how it was possible for him to be even more adorable when he was tired. With his bare, defined chest illuminated in the dim light, his hair messy, and his eyelids heavy, he looked downright beautiful. I tried my hardest to suppress the same ache that had been burning inside me every night for the past two years.

Soon we would be man and wife, and I wouldn't have to wait anymore.

He dropped a hand to my cheek, trying to read my expression, "What are you thinking about?"

"Being married to you," I replied honestly, feeling my cheeks begin to burn.

Maxon raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Yeah, I imagine being married to me will be pretty spectacular."

I nudged him playfully in the ribs, and he responded by rolling over so that he was straddling me, pinning my wrists into the mattress. My veins burned with electricity and yearning, but I tried to play it cool as he lowered his lips to my ears and growled, "Did you just strike your king?"

My breath caught in my throat, but I managed to breath, "I wouldn't call a poke in the ribs 'striking you'."

"A punishable offence, nonetheless," he whispered, grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin beneath my ear, "What on earth and I going to do with you, Miss Singer?"

Even if I'd wanted to reply, I couldn't. My breath was coming too urgently, and my head was far too foggy to cook up any kind of comeback. With my wrists still pinned to the bed, I had no choice but to lie there as Maxon torturously kissed and nibbled his way down my neck. My insides burned and coiled with unspoken pleasure, and I allowed my eyes to fall shut, simply reveling in the delicious sensations.

No sooner had my eyes closed did Maxon pull away from me. My eyes popped open to discover him smirking down at me.

"You're not supposed to be enjoying this," he teased, "This is supposed to be your punishment."

I pouted, widening my eyes, "Are you kidding me? This is torture."

A growl resonated at the back of Maxon's throat, and he pressed a hungry kiss to my lips. He finally released my wrists, allowing me to dig my fingers into his shoulder blades, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. The immediacy of his warm skin and hot breath set my senses alight, only making me want him more.

With a strangled sigh, he pulled away, and I missed the intimacy immediately. We lay side by side, simply facing one another, lazily devouring one another's faces with our eyes.

"Just a few more days," he breathed, voicing my thoughts, "Just a few more days."

* * *

**zeldafanatic0555 ****- That was definitely a misguided decision on Maxon's account!**

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	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay in getting the next chapter up! I should be posting more regularly again from now on.**

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 4!**

* * *

Mom, May, Kenna, Marlee and Braelyn had all piled into my room to get ready for the special wedding edition of the Report. All six of our dresses were hanging from the curtain rails, illuminated in the evening light, and even Astra pottered around the room in a gauzy white dress with her red hair set in ringlets. Maxon had arranged for a stereo to be brought up to the Princess Suite, along with loaning us one of his cameras so we could make a real occasion of the evening.

Marlee had done both her and Braelyn's hair and makeup with startling efficiency, and the two of them were now racing around the room with an ecstatic Astra, snapping photos of May, Kenna and I whilst the maids fussed over us. All of our dresses were white and gold, so the makeshift dressing tables were scattered with neutral, shimmering shades of makeup, and sprigs of white flowers that were being cut up and placed artfully into each of our hairstyles. The room brimmed with gossip and laughter and glasses of champagne; the wedding celebrations had truly begun.

"All the guests are arriving tomorrow," I sighed, turning to May with a sly grin, "Are you looking forward to seeing your Seth?"

May rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the telltale twitch at the corner of her lips, "He's not _my_ Seth."

"Sure," I giggled, taking another sip of my champagne, "Tell me that when I end up stumbling over the two of you kissing behind a curtain again like I did at last year's Summer Ball."

May kicked me sharply under the table, her cheeks flushing red. She clearly wasn't too angry though, as her lips twisted into a cheeky smile. My little sister may only have been sixteen, but I knew all of us were secretly hoping for a proposal in the next few years. The English were great friends with the Italians, and a marriage would cement our blossoming alliances with both countries.

At the thought of Italians, I touched the blue cameo bracelet on my wrist - a gift from Nicoletta for my eighteenth birthday. Coincidentally, it matched the pendant Amberley had given me during the Selection, and I wore both pieces of jewellery pretty much everyday.

Before too long, we were all putting on our dresses, and the Princess Suite became a sea of white ruffles and gold embroidery. My own dress had a full skirt of gently pleated white silk, and a delicate, short sleeved bodice embroidered with regal gold leaves and roses. It was undoubtedly a beautiful dress, but not too grand; it couldn't upstage my actual wedding dress.

May, Kenna, Marlee and Braelyn all wore very similar dresses that coordinated with my own, clearly identifying them as my bridesmaids. The bodices were constructed from layers upon layers of gold leaves, with crisp silk skirts that cascaded to the floor. Before heading downstairs, we all made one final toast to the upcoming wedding and drained what was left in our glasses.

* * *

"So, Lady America, would you mind introducing your bridesmaids?"

Gavril was orchestrating the Report with every bit of his trademark flair, and was even wearing a dazzling white suit for the occasion. Maxon looked more modest in a charcoal gray outfit, and had spent the past five minutes watching from the sidelines as Gavril interviewed me, smirking all the while.

Right on cue, the four ladies filed onto the stage, perching on the long sofa that had been set up for them. They all wore beaming smiles and waved elegantly for the cameras.

"Marlee and Braelyn probably don't need any introduction," I began, gesturing to each of my friends, "I met both of them during the Selection, and they've been my best friends ever since. Then there's my two sisters, Kenna and May. I've always considered myself so lucky to have two such wonderful sisters, and I'm incredibly grateful for how close we all are."

Gavril grinned, flashing his white teeth, "You really are a family girl, aren't you, Lady America?"

I ducked my head with a shy smile, "I certainly can't argue that, Gavril."

Gavril then turned to Marlee and Braelyn, "So, my ladies, how does it feel to be finally seeing your friend down the aisle after being members of the Selection yourselves?"

I stole a glance at Braelyn, curious to hear her response. I knew that she'd had feelings for Maxon herself once, although she claimed she'd now moved on from them. Part of me was still worried that watching me marry him might be too much for her, but right now she was hard to read.

Laughter bubbled from Marlee's lips, "Oh Gavril, if I'm entirely honest the Selection feels like it was a lifetime ago. I'm just happy for my best friend, and of course honoured to be involved in such an important event."

Braelyn looked relieved that Marlee had taken the lead, nodding her head along with everything she was saying, "I agree. We both have fond memories of the Selection, however this wedding is all about Maxon and America and their future together, and I couldn't be happier for them."

"Well isn't that lovely?" Gavril replied, before addressing May and Kenna, "Now I have a question for our Queen-to-be's sisters - Can you ladies tell us anything embarrassing about Lady America before she came to the palace?"

Kenna raised an eyebrow, "Does the fact that she'd sometimes sleep well past lunch after her performances count?"

"Or that she used to have the worst table manners," May giggled, flashing me a jovial yet apologetic smile, "She used to wield her fork like a shovel."

"Thank goodness Silvia got her hands on me, eh?" I chipped in, making light of their revelations. Gavril was creased up with laughter, and when I glanced over at Maxon he too was laughing. I shook my head in despair.

"Well this has been a delight, ladies," Gavril sighed when he'd finally recovered from his bout of laughter, "I'd say it's about time we get the groom over here! King Maxon?"

Maxon strode confidently across the stage and settled on the sofa beside me as the other girls excused themselves. He wound an arm around my shoulders and I instinctively melted into his embrace.

"Your majesty," Gavril began, briefly bowing his head, "I can only hope that these new revelations about your bride-to-be haven't given you cold feet?"

Maxon chuckled, squeezing me fondly, "Not at all, Gavril, and I can't say they've come as a huge surprise, either. America has always liked her sleep and her food."

My cheeks reddened, but I had a retort prepared, "You be careful, or I'll be forced to share the pet name you used to want your wife to call you."

Gavril pounced immediately, "Well, now you simply _have_ to tell us, Lady America. Don't leave us in suspense - do share!"

I glanced up at Maxon; he rolled his eyes and pressed his face into his free hand, but he didn't try to stop me, "During the Selection he told me that he wanted his future wife to call him 'My Beloved Rock God Maxon'."

Laughter echoed around the room, and I even spotted Amberley giggling into her fingers. Gavril's laughter was booming, but he soon reigned it in and asked, "And will you be respecting his wishes, Lady America?"

"But of course," I teased, biting my lip and sharing a disbelieving look with Maxon, who was still recovering from his embarrassment.

Gavril looked delighted, slapping a hand to his leg before composing his face into something more refined, "On a more serious note, how are you both feeling about your upcoming nuptials?"

Maxon's expression sobered slightly, "It's been such a long time coming that I'm finding it hard to believe that the day is almost here. I'm sure it will hit me like a train sometime over the next couple of days, and no doubt I'll be a big emotional wreck when it does. Not what the country wants to hear from their King, I'm sure!"

Gavril laughed fondly, "I'm sure we can forgive any emotional outbursts over the coming days, your majesty! After all, who can blame you? Your fiance is quite the woman."

I lifted a hand to my chest, "I'm flatted, Gavril, although be careful what you say next. If you're too nice about me then his majesty might get jealous!"

Maxon chuckled at my light teasing, and dropped a kiss atop my head.

"Oh dear, maybe you're right, my lady! May I ask how you're feeling about the wedding?"

I smiled thoughtfully, "As Maxon said, it's been a long time coming. One moment I'm a ball of nerves, and the next I'm giddy with excitement. More than anything, I simply can't wait to start our lives together as a married couple, and to begin ruling together as King and Queen."

"How touching. Thank you for sharing, my lady," Gavril concluded, before turning to the cameras, "That's it for tonight, but before we wrap up, we'll be sharing some of King Maxon and Lady America's best moments - stay tuned!"

* * *

It was the night before the wedding, and Maxon and I had decided to respect tradition and sleep in different rooms. I'd become so used to having his warm, strong body curled around mine as I slept that I was having problems settling, and the wedding day nerves weren't helping either. After a while I couldn't stand to lie restlessly in bed any longer, so I pulled myself upright, stuffed my arms into my robe, and headed towards the balcony for some fresh air.

I'd expected to be alone with my thoughts and my rolling view of the gardens, however I stopped in my tracks when I spotted Maxon leaning against the railing of his balcony, right alongside my own. We shared a coy smile before he called, "Trouble sleeping?"

"Something like that," I sighed, pulling my robe tightly around myself.

Maxon flashed a small, sympathetic smile, "Meet me in the corridor, and bring something warm."

Dutifully, and with a sudden burst of curious excitement, I headed inside and found a sweater in my vast dressing room. I pulled it over my head and hurried out into the corridor. If I needed to dress warm, that meant one thing - we were going outside.

Maxon was already in the corridor waiting for me, and I pressed my hands to his chest with an eager smile the moment I saw him. Without prompt, he wound his arms around my waist.

"Where are we going? The garden?"

The corner of his lips pulled up into a secretive smile, "Just you wait and see."

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

**Since I made you wait so long for the last chapter, I figured I'd update two days in a row to make up for it. I hope I'm forgiven! :)**

**Someone requested a scene on the roof at the end of my last story, so I thought I'd incorporate it here and ended up having a little fun with it. Enjoy!**

* * *

I'd lived in the palace for over two years now, however as Maxon led me down unfamiliar corridors and up unknown staircases, I realised just how much of the building was still a mystery to me. The boyish smile on his face told me that Maxon loved exploring the furthermost reaches of the castle; escaping the thriving hubs, and the demands and questions of his advisers. Wherever we were heading, I gathered that it was somewhere Maxon considered an escape.

We passed throngs of maids and attendants who were working through the night putting the finishing touches in place for the wedding, however they all graciously ignored us. Considering I was wearing a nightgown and big sweater, and Maxon wore pajama pants and a sweater of his own, they could clearly tell that whatever we were up to, there was no need to uphold unnecessary etiquette.

Finally, we reached a door that looked quite unlike the others in the palace; if anything, it resembled the doors to the royal safe room. Maxon tapped a code into a discreet keypad, and pulled the metal door open with a grunt, gesturing for me go through.

Nothing could have prepared me for the view.

Angeles by night was a sight unlike anything else I'd ever seen. The roads and parks and hotels and apartment blocks were lit up like the night sky, so much so that the horizon blurred seamlessly into the stars above, and there was no telling where the Earth ended and the heavens began.

"We're on the roof," I murmured as Maxon came to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

He kissed the top of my hair, "Yes, we are."

My eyes were still wide with disbelief. I shook my head and said, "It's stunning. Why have you never brought me up here before?"

Maxon sighed contemplatively, "I used to come up here when my father became too much for me, but after he was exiled, I no longer felt that need to escape. Honestly, I'd never felt truly at home _inside_ the palace until the day you arrived. Also... I kissed another of the Selected up here. Olivia. I wasn't sure how I felt about bringing you somewhere where I'd shared something like that with another women, but since all that is behind us now-"

He was rambling, clearly trying to convince himself that he'd done the right thing by keeping this beautiful secret from me. I turned to face him, smiling serenely, and took his face in my hands, "You don't have to explain - I understand."

"You don't mind that I bought you up here tonight?"

I shook my head gently, "No, it's exactly what I needed."

Maxon relaxed, and guided me over to a small stretch of low wall that served as a bench. We sat in thoughtful silence for some time, heads tilted together and eyes fixed on the sea of glittering lights before us. At one point I began to shiver slightly in the night air, but he wound his arms around me, coaxing me into his warm lap.

"Maxon," I eventually sighed, my lips against his cheek, "I'm worried about the wedding. With your father out there and the Newsomes kicking up a fuss..."

He pressed his fingers gently to my lips, silencing me, "Oh Mer, of all the things to worry about. _No one _is ruining our wedding, I promise you that. Let me worry about my father - you just enjoy every moment of our big day."

I shook my head petulantly, "Nuh-uh. A problem shared is a problem halved, remember? I'm not letting you handle this situation with your father on your own."

"America-"

"No, Maxon," I argued firmly, "As of tomorrow I'll be your wife and your Queen, so you've got to promise you'll stop underestimating me."

Maxon's lips tugged up into a small, sad smile, "Mer, it's not that I underestimate you; you're the strongest, gutsiest, most passionate person I know, and that's why I love you. However, you're also the woman I love, and I want to protect you to the very best of my ability."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead touching a hand to his cheek, "Instead, why don't we promise to protect each other? But there's a difference between keeping someone safe and pulling the wool over their eyes."

"You're right," Maxon conceded wearily, bowing his head.

"I always am," I teased, prompting him to tickle me playfully in the ribs. Breathy giggles spilled from my lips, but the more I tried to pull away, the closer Maxon held me. After an excruciating minute or so, the tickling ceased, and he crashed his lips to mine in a sudden kiss. I was still out of breath, my heart pounding in my chest, making the kiss even more intense. Between the frigid night air and Maxon's warm breath, my senses felt more alive than ever.

Maxon broke the kiss, moving his lips to my ear, "I love you."

I felt a thrill of delight in my chest as I replied, "I love you too."

After savouring a final, delicious moment in one another's arms, I reluctantly said, "We should really get back to bed. We've both got an early start tomorrow."

"You're right," Maxon sighed, as we slowly disentangled ourselves. I followed him to the door, but when we reached it Maxon suddenly stopped in his tracks. He cursed under his breath, and I felt a disconcerting wave of panic.

"What's wrong?"

"I put a wedge in the door to stop it locking behind us, but it must have dislodged it," He groaned, pressing his face into his hands, "We're locked out. I'm so sorry, Mer."

"Locked out?" I echoed curiously. I took a moment to digest this news, before doubling over with laughter; great belly laughs that continued to bubble up from the pit of my stomach.

Maxon's eyes widened with bemusement, "I don't understand."

I shook my head and wiped a tear from the corner of my eye as the laughter began to subside, "Are you kidding me? You've got to admit, this is pretty hilarious."

"I don't see what's so funny," he replied, his face the picture of concern, "Because of me, my bride-to-be now has to sleep on a cold, hard roof the night before our wedding."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," I insisted, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, "It's not the end of the world, and it'll certainly make a funny story."

He cocked a playful eyebrow, beginning to see the funny side, "You think I should mention this in my speech tomorrow?"

"Most definitely."

Despite the jokes I was cracking, I had to admit that the concept of sleeping on the roof was not an appealing one, and I couldn't begin to imagine the panic we'd cause when our maids and attendants found us missing from our beds on the morning of our wedding.

"Is there any way of climbing down?" I asked, to which Maxon stared at me incredulously.

"You really think I'd about to let you scale the front of the palace?"

I shrugged, "Perhaps. I don't know about you, but I fancy sleeping in an actual bed tonight."

Maxon shook his head firmly, "Not a chance in hell."

I collapsed down onto the wall with a stubborn sigh, "Well, what do you suggest then?"

"We make do of the situation and wait until we're found."

I raised my eyebrows, "Really? If either of our mothers believe we're missing for one moment they'll have a heart attack. Aren't there any guards around? We could try to get their attention."

"They might think we're rebels," Maxon grumbled, pacing back and forth, "What if they attacked us?"

"Oh, come on," I sighed, hugging my knees to my chest, "We haven't had a rebel attack in _months_. They're hardly going to jump to that conclusion."

"They're _trained_ to jump to that conclusion," Maxon pointed out, and I could hardly argue. He knew far more about the guards' training than I did.

"Well, if you're not going to let me try and climb down then I guess our only option is to try and get some sleep," I relented, moving onto the ground and stretching out. I hardly wanted to risk rolling off the wall and cracking my head open the night before my wedding.

"You're right," Maxon agreed, stretching out beside me, "Goodnight, America."

* * *

I woke to an unfamiliar humming sound that stirred the air around us. I sat bolt upright, rousing Maxon, who immediately jumped into action and positioned himself above me in a protective stance.

"What the hell is that?" I shouted as the mystery humming noise grew louder, thrumming in my ears and churning the air.

"A helicopter," Maxon replied. Sure enough, when I peered around him I spotted a machine that looked somewhat like a plane approaching us. It wasn't big, but it's wide spinning blades made it look intimidating and deadly.

"Is it the rebels?" I asked in a moment of sudden panic.

"No," Maxon called, shielding his eyes against the rippling air, "It's one of ours, but they must think we're intruders, otherwise they would have just sent guards up."

I pulled myself to my feet beside Maxon and began flailing my arms, helplessly calling, "It's us! America and Maxon!"

"They won't be able to hear you," Maxon called, but nonetheless he joined me in waving his arms.

The helicopter was now hovering nearby. I hoped that they would be able to recognise us from this proximity, but the lighting on the roof was dim at best, and the lights on the helicopter didn't quite reach our faces.

"They still can't recognise us," I murmured, my heart beginning to pulse rapidly in my chest, causing my veins to burn.

"_Keep your hands where we can see them_," an amplified voice echoed from the helicopter, "_You're under arrest._"

I ignored the command, continuing to wave and even going so far as to jump up and down in hope that they'd get the message and realise who we were.

It didn't work.

"_Remain still and keep your hands where we can see them_," the voice from the helicopter repeated, "_Otherwise we will be forced to take fire_."

Maxon grabbed me and forced me still, hissing, "Calm down, America. Just do what they say. Trust me."

Reluctantly, I did as I was told, and stood motionless with my hands in the air. Now that the situation had been deemed secure, the door burst open and half a dozen guards spilled out, guns pointed in our direction. My racing heart stopped in an instant; I'd been on the receiving end of gunfire before, and by no means was it something I wished to repeat.

The guards formed a circle around us, and I began counting the seconds, hoping and praying that they would recognise our faces. I almost jumped out of my skin when Maxon began shouting.

"It's me, King Maxon! And this is Lady America!"

There was a moment of stillness, before the most senior guard dropped his gun and shouted, "Officers, lower your weapons! It's the King and Lady America."

Sure enough, the guards dropped their guns one by one, and I could have passed out with relief. Unfortunately, just as my head cleared I realised that the rebel alarm was blaring inside the palace walls. At first I felt a wave of panic, before I realised that Maxon and I must have tripped it.

_Well_, I thought to myself_, Our wedding day is off to a flying start._

* * *

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	6. Chapter 6

**It's finally wedding time! I'm on the move right now, so I've had to write this on my iPad (hence I can't reply individually to reviews today, but thank you all so much for your support and feedback, you lovely lot!). For a peek at America's wedding dress, check out my Instragram - floraquatica.**

**I hope you enjoy Chapter 6!**

* * *

"Really, what were you two thinking?"

My mom was the only one who didn't seem to find the story of Maxon and I's rooftop adventure very funny. Since it was the morning of my wedding she was trying hard to power through her disappointment, however she couldn't help but drop the odd comment as she stood behind me pulling a brush through my hair.

"Oh, lighten up, mother," Kenna laughed, pressing champagne into both of our hands.

"They could have been killed!"

Kenna rolled her eyes, "Have a little faith in Maxon. He's the King, after all, and by the end of today he'll be your son in law!"

At mention of Maxon truly becoming part of our family, mom's hand faltered on the hairbrush and her eyes bulged with tears, lips quivering. One tear escaped, but she dashed it away before it had a chance to mar her makeup. At sight of my mom crying I felt my own throat begin to thicken; so far I'd managed to keep my emotions under check, but I knew it was only a matter of time before something set me off.

Setting the hairbrush down on the dressing table, my mom placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned down to press a kiss to my cheek. Through her tears she managed to choke, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

Something clicked in my head. My mother and I had never had a bad relationship, but she'd always been so preoccupied with pushing me that we hadn't bonded on the same level as my dad and I. In that moment, I felt a real bond with her for the first time. I tried to swallow back my tears and span around in my chair, throwing my arms around my mother's neck. Kenna and May remained silent, giving us a moment of peace.

Not that a moment of peace stood any chance on the day of a royal wedding. Seconds later, we were interrupted by the Princess Suite door swinging open to reveal Marlee and Braelyn, arm in arm and brandishing their champagne glasses like flaming torches.

"Hello _Bridey_!" Marlee sang, unlinking her arm from Braelyn's and rushing over to us, "We've just seen the flowers in the orangery and they are gorgeous."

"Where are Lucy, Anne and Mary?" Braelyn mused, "If we don't start getting ready soon we'll be late."

"It's a bride's prerogative to be late!" Marlee teased, waggling her finger.

I rolled my eyes, amused by their enthused bickering, "They'll be up soon. They thought it might be nice to give us some time to ourselves first."

"That's so sweet," May sighed, playing with the jewellery that was all laid out for us on the dresser, "Oh my God, Ames. Today is just going to be amazing!"

"I know!" I squealed, my heart beginning to fly in my chest. My emotions were already running so high that I didn't dare drink any of the champagne Kenna had given me.

All of the ladies had flocked around the dressing table, stroking my hair and shoulders and cooing over what a beautiful bride I was going to be. It was all a bit much, and I was preparing to tactfully shoo them all away when we were interrupted by a knock on the open door. We span around to see Amberley stood in the doorway with a warm smile on her lips and her elegant hands folded neatly in front of dress.

"Good morning, ladies," she called, "May I come in?"

"Of course, Amberley," my mom sighed, "How is Maxon after last night's madness?"

Amberley laughed brightly, "Oh, he's fine! He's just a little nervous about today, but incredibly excited too."

At mention of Maxon my heart swelled in my chest.

"I have some bad news, I'm afraid," she sighed, perching on the chaise, "Our ring bearer is apparently sick."

My mouth popped open. One of Amberley's youngest nephews had been chosen as ring bearer, and he was such a sweet little thing that I couldn't imagine him being sick. I pulled myself together and asked, "Is he doing alright?"

"It's nothing serious," Amberley insisted, "Just enough to put him out of action. Can you think of anyone else we can use instead?"

I chewed my lip, mulling the question over. Astra was already carrying my tiara -since my coronation would be tied into the ceremony- so that was out of the question. Just then, Lucy, Mary and Anne filed into the room with trays of breakfast pastries, and a light came on in my head. I turned to Amberley with a grin and said, "I know just the person."

* * *

As we waited to enter the orangery, I would have felt nervous if it weren't for the crowd of my loved ones surrounding me. My dad held my hand every moment, looking somewhat overwhelmed but perfectly regal in his dark grey suit. May, Marlee and Braelyn were huddled together in a little circle of giggles and nervous whispers. Every now and then one of them would straighten my veil or the train of my dress, not that there was any need for it. My maids had designed it so that the fabric fell effortlessly. It looked incredibly old world, with it's high necked lace bodice, capped sleeves and great, lacy skirt that created a perfectly elegant silhouette when I walked.

Kenna had Astra's little hand locked in her own, helping the toddler carry my tiara on it's silk pillow. Astra looked like my mini me, in the most tasteful sense. She wore a white lace dress, powder blue shoes that matched my kitten heels, and had her red hair looped into the same halo braid that I did. The sight of her was enough to make anyone melt.

Then there were the newest members of my bridal party. I'd chosen Celia as the new ring bearer, however as she was still so small she had Aspen and Lucy escorting her down the aisle. Lucy had stared at me with pure disbelief when I'd asked her to be part of the ceremony, before tears of delight began to stream down her cheeks and she gathered me into a surprisingly overwhelming hug for a girl her size. As for Aspen... It felt strangely fitting to have him involved in our wedding In some way. Our past may have been spotty, however he was undoubtedly one of our closest friends.

"Ready, kitten?"

The music had changed; it was time for our entrance. I glanced at my dad and nodded, chewing my lip as riotous butterflies began bubbling away in my stomach, "Yes, I think so."

"I love you, America."

"Love you too, dad."

We watched as my bridesmaids, Astra, Celia, Lucy and Aspen made their entrances, each of them wishing me good luck as they left. Before too long it was our turn, and my heart pulsed in my throat. I shuffled my bouquet in my hands, trying to focus on the blue and cream blooms bound with blue ribbon, but I was too restless. Thankfully my dad was listening for our cue, and gently prompted me through the door when it was finally time.

The orangery was full of light and life and colour. A canopy of flowers, vines and ribbons filled the glass ceiling, and beautifully wild looking trees lined the walls, their leaves filtering the late spring sunlight. The music was soft, yet bright, and I was welcomed by row upon row of beaming faces.

But I only had eyes for one of them.

Maxon stood in front of the back wall, which had somehow been absolutely covered with wildflowers. He wore a slim fitting light grey suit, along with his traditional sashes and -of course- his crown. I hadn't seen him wearing it since his coronation, and seeing him wear it two years later somehow made me fall in love with him all over again. Judging by the awestruck manner in which he was watching me walk down the aisle, he was falling in love with me all over again too.

When we reached the alter, my dad kissed my cheek, brushed my hair behind my hair and whispered, "I'm so proud of you kitten."

A tear leaked from the corner of my eye, and I couldn't resist pulling my dad in for one final hug before he passed my hand over to Maxon. The moment was every bit as tender and poignant as I'd always hoped, and despite my best efforts more tears began to spill down my cheeks. Maxon lifted a hand to my cheek and brushed them away, his eyes dreamy. He leaned in a little and breathed, "You look absolutely beautiful."

"You don't look too bad yourself, your majesty," I managed to choke.

"Will you do me the honour of marrying me, Miss Singer?"

"Of course I will."

* * *

The reception was every bit as gorgeous as the ceremony; Kenna had transformed the Great Room with fresh flowers, garlands of ribbon, and hundreds of fairy lights, but I was too preoccupied by the feel of my husband's hand on the small of my back, and the slight thrill I felt whenever I caught sight of my reflection. I doubted I would ever get used to the sight of a tiara on my head.

Maxon and I did our rounds, receiving hugs and congratulations from a number of our fellow dignitaries, ending on the tables where the other members of the Selection were seated. It was tradition to invite them, and whilst some looked quite content with their new husbands and boyfriends, others still looked a little bitter, eying Maxon and I with unabashed jealousy.

Among them was Kriss, whose expression was outright sour. I couldn't help but feel bad for her husband, Damian. I'd met him at my eighteenth birthday ball, and he'd come across as a very genuine, polite man. It wasn't fair on him, having to watch his wife lamenting over lost love.

"Is that everyone?" I whispered as Maxon led me away.

He chuckled lightly and patted my hand, "Yes, that's everyone. Now I have you all to myself."

My cheeks burned, but thankfully Maxon steered me away from the crowds and out of the Great Room. We found an alcove in the corridor, and Maxon pinned me gently against the wall, peppering my red face with sweet kisses. His lips felt cool and soft against my burning skin.

"You're all mine," he sighed, cupping my face in his hands.

I smirked sheepishly, "Maxon, I've been yours for quite a while."

"As have I been yours."

He pressed a kiss to my lips, and the palace walls around us paled into insignificance. In that moment, we could have been anywhere in the world. We could have been Fives having a modest wedding at home, or we could have been a pair of Eights, simply content to have one another. Maxon handled me as if I were made of antique crystal, careful not to mess up my hair or makeup too much. Nevertheless, the kiss communicated all of the emotion and love that we'd been bottling up throughout the ceremony and reception, waiting for a moment of privacy where we could be truly be ourselves with one another.

"I love you," I whispered breathlessly against his lips.

"I love you too."


	7. Chapter 7

**I am so sorry for making you wait so long again for an update. I've had some medical issues I've been tackling, but I've really missed writing this story so I'm going to try and strike a better balance over the next couple of weeks. We'll see how it goes!**

**Anyway, I had a long car journey today so it was the perfect opportunity to work on this chapter! There's more wedding goodness, some America/Marlee cuteness, and a taster of what's to come in the next chapter... **

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"I hate you for making me do this," I hissed as Maxon led me out into the middle of the now candlelit orangery.

Maxon smirked, "I thought you liked dancing with me, my dear?"

I cringed, and gently pinched his arm, "Hey! That's _Mrs_ My Dear to you. Anyway, I do like dancing with you - just not with hundreds of people watching."

"Then pretend it's just the two of us."

I rolled my eyes at how simple he made it sound. As much as I liked certain wedding traditions, the first dance was one that had always made me feel a bit sick. I could just about handle dancing when there was a big crowd of people for us to lose ourselves amongst, but this felt far more intense.

Nevertheless, I placed my hands around Maxon's neck, and let him lead me in a very simple, intimate slow dance. As he'd suggested, I tried to imagine it was just the two of us, swaying on the roof beneath a sky full of stars.

Maxon ducked his head, until his forehead was pressed to my own. He flashed a secretive smile that was all for me and whispered, "See, this isn't so bad, is it?"

"No," I admitted reluctantly, "I suppose it isn't."

Maxon chuckled triumphantly, then shook his head slightly and whispered, "I love you, Mer."

"I love you too, Max."

He raised his eyebrows, "What did you just call me?"

My cheeks flushed a little, but I simply shrugged and said, "I figured 'My Beloved Rock God Maxon' was too much of a mouthful."

He pouted, "Well then, what about My Darling Dearest Husband?"

I shook my head and poked my tongue out in distaste, "I still prefer Max."

"As you wish," he conceded with a smirk.

Maxon pulled away briefly, waving our guests onto the dance floor, encouraging them to join us. Seth eagerly dragged a giggling, pink cheeked May out onto the floor, and slowly others began to follow suit; My mom and dad, Kenna and James, Lucy and Aspen, Marlee and Carter... Gerad had even plucked up the courage to ask Nicoletta to dance, still harbouring a schoolboy crush on her. Braelyn was on the arm of some unknown dignitary, looking the happiest I'd seen her since she'd returned from Whites.

Lowering his mouth to my ear, Maxon breathed, "Now, be completely honest with me, Mrs Schreave. Did you want to skip our first dance so that we could escape to our bed early and ravish one another?"

My mouth popped open in feigned horror, "Your majesty! How sordid!"

"I see nothing sordid about a groom making love to his bride," he growled, eyes flashing with playful excitement.

I swatted his arm discreetly, "I swear wearing that crown plays havoc with your ego."

The corner of his mouth tugged up into a teasing smile, "Something tells me you love it really."

Of course, he was right. Maxon knew exactly how to press my buttons, and secretly I loved it when he spoke to me like that. It was a side to him that only I saw; he was less apologetic, more brazen, more domineering. It made my blood burn in my veins, and my stomach tangle itself in anxious knots. My hands slipped down from his neck, pressing to his chest instead, imagining the beautiful, fair skin beneath the layers of sash and suit. It was everything I could do to remind myself that we weren't alone on the dance floor.

"May and Seth look cosy," Maxon chuckled, nodding over to where my sister danced with the English Prince. Her curls were beginning to fall from their pins and she'd clearly been on the champagne, but she'd never looked more beautiful. Wild, delicate, and charmingly uninhibited. Seth truly brought out the best in her.

I rested my head against Maxon's shoulder and sighed, "I'm happy for them, but I hate to think that one day Seth will take her back to England with him, and I'll lose my little sister."

Maxon stroked my hair reassuringly, "The English royals are more figureheads than true rulers. If he does indeed make her his Queen one day, she'll have far more free time than we do. You'll still see plenty of her."

"That doesn't mean I won't miss her."

Maxon tilted his head on top of mine, "She's still young."

"So were we," I sighed.

"And are you unhappy with the way things ended up?" He asked inquisitively.

"Of course not! I wouldn't have had it any other way."

"Well then, have a little faith in fate."

He was right, and I reminded myself to be happy for my little sister, and to simply try and enjoy what was left of our wedding. I closed my eyes, inhaling a breath of Maxon's cologne. It was basil and mint; crisp and intriguing, just like him. I allowed him to sway me gently as the final notes of the song began to peter out.

As the music dropped off, the sound of raised voices caught my attention. My eyes snapped open, and I searched the room for the source of conflict. Eventually I spotted a handful of guards clustered around one of the side doors. Unfortunately, I couldn't make out what was going on through the crowds of dancers surrounding us. After a moment I spotted Lucy and Marlee huddled at the edge of the room, meaning that Carter and Aspen -two of Maxon's own guards- must have been required.

That couldn't be a good thing.

Maxon had noticed the disturbance too, and held me back when I tried to go and see what was going on. Instead, he caught his mother's eye, and steered us over to where she stood at the other side of the room.

"Do you know what's going on?" Maxon asked, but she simply shook her head.

"I promise it's nothing you need to concern yourselves with tonight. It's under control," Amberley assured us.

Maxon opened his mouth to protest, "But mother-"

She raised her hand to his cheek, tenderly silencing him, "Please, sweetheart. Just enjoy tonight. Your duties can wait until morning."

Something about her tone insinuated we should make the most of our peaceful night while it lasted.

* * *

On any other special occasion I would have had all four of my maids get me ready for bed, but tonight I'd requested that Marlee tended to me alone. I was a ball of nerves -my head spinning with champagne- and I trusted that Marlee would know exactly what to do and say to put me in the right frame of mind for one of the most important nights of my life.

We both sat cross legged on my bed as she undid my braid and brushed out my hair, spritzing it with a perfumed serum that defined my curls. No doubt she could sense my tension, hence she was taking things slow, trying to help me relax.

"You're nervous," she said softly. It was a statement - not a question.

"Uh huh."

She continued methodically pulling the brush through my hair, "Please don't be, Ames. Maxon will be good to you."

"I know he will be," I sighed, knotting my fingers in my lap, "Honestly, I don't know why I'm so nervous."

Marlee laughed lightly, "It's no wonder. It's been built up to be such a big thing, especially because of who you are. But you two already know one another so well..."

"Exactly!" I giggled shakily, "We've shared a bed for the past two years. We're already familiar with each other's bodies, which is why I can't figure out why I'm so nervous."

She removed the last pin and brushed out the final section of my hair, then set down the brush on my comforter and flung her arms around my neck, "You two are so perfect for one another, and I promise you tonight will be fine. In fact, it will be better than fine! Tomorrow morning you'll be on cloud nine, and you'll be wondering what all this fuss was about."

I felt tears beginning to prick in the corner of my eyes, "Thanks Marlee. I needed to hear that. What would I do without you?"

She laughed brightly, straightening the white silk robe I'd shrugged on over my powder blue nightgown, "You know I love you, Ames, but don't you dare start crying on me right now. I'm not fixing your makeup a second time!"

I rolled my eyes with a giggle, holding back my tears and choking, "Love you too, Marlee."

* * *

Maxon was waiting in the King's Suite. It had been completely stripped down, redecorated and refurnished since it had belonged to his father, and now that we were finally married, he was officially moving in. There was no trace of his father left in the room; Maxon had asked for it to feel light, airy, and in harmony with the gardens, and the designers had done exactly as he'd asked. The furniture was all grand and ornate, but carved from light natural wood, and the walls (where they weren't covered by bookshelves, cameras or photos) and soft furnishings were all in shades of sky blue and sage green.

I knocked tentatively on the door, and Maxon called me inside. He was waiting on the balcony, still wearing his suit shirt and pants, with a glass of champagne in hand. When offered me one of my own I declined.

"My head's already feeling a little fuzzy," I explained with an apologetic smile, but Maxon didn't seem to mind. He drained what was left of his own glass, before setting it aside and winding his arms around my waist, slipping inside the silk of my robe.

"We don't have to do this tonight," he breathed, holding me at a frustratingly safe distance, "You must be exhausted; I'd completely understand if you just wanted to go to sleep."

I shook my head, biting my lip, "No, Maxon. I want this."

He didn't need any more encouragement than that. He crashed his lips to mine, kissing me so intently that I ended up with my back pressed against the balcony railing. Between the cold metal, the mild night air, and Maxon's heat and immediacy my senses were sent into overdrive. Mercifully, his mouth left mine and began pressing kisses to my neck, my throat, my collarbones, allowing me to gulp the cold night air.

My hands found their way onto the back of his neck as his mouth explored my exposed skin, and I let my head tip back, fingers knotting in his hair and toes curling against the tiled floor, tethering me to reality as I lost myself in sensation. Tonight, I didn't need to worry about limits or self control. We could finally enjoy one another, in the truest sense.

I felt the whisper of a caress on my shoulder as Maxon pushed my robe and the strap of my nightgown aside, his mouth travelling across my shoulder, then dipping lower... I was still somewhat aware that we were still out on the balcony, so I pressed my hands to his chest and managed to whisper, "Let's go to bed."

"As you wish, Mrs Schreave."

* * *

**Aren't I just the worst? ;) Stay tuned for more Maxerica soon!**


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